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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28251438">A Nightmare that Should Never Happen</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatchTheAntagonist/pseuds/WatchTheAntagonist'>WatchTheAntagonist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dimension 20 (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Introspection, Missing Scene, Spoilers through S2 E6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:00:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,144</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28251438</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatchTheAntagonist/pseuds/WatchTheAntagonist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kingston Brown doesn't have nightmares. Pete makes sure of that. So, when he wakes up from a bad dream and Pete isn't answering his phone, Kingston knows that something is really wrong. Now, if only he knew how to fix it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kingston Brown &amp; Pete the Plug, Kingston Brown/Elizabeth "Liz" Herrera, Ricky Matsui/Esther Sinclair</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>109</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Nightmare that Should Never Happen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The revelation of how close Pete came to dying in this episode SHOOK me. So, of course I had to write about it. Plus, I liked the idea of Kingston knowing something was wrong because of Vox Populi magic but being unable to actually help or know what was happening. And so, this fic was born.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For most of his life, Kingston didn’t remember his dreams. He had figured it was a Vox Populi thing. After all, he was the guardian of the waking world, of the people of New York City. Not much for him to do if they were sleeping. On dark mornings when he woke up in a cold bed after a particularly biting fight with Liz, he wondered if, in his sleep, it was the only time he was really alone. There wasn’t anyone to speak for, there. Maybe the reason he didn’t dream was because, without all of those other voices coursing through him, there wasn’t anything left of Kingston Brown.</p><p>               After he and Liz split up, he would sometimes dream. Good dreams. He and Liz, together again. Children whose faces he could never quite make out running around their apartment. Everything he could have had but had sacrificed, again and again, with every choice he made. Then he’d wake up. Kingston rarely drank, and never alone. Why would he, when he had so many good friends? But on those mornings, after the warmth of the dream faded, he was tempted.</p><p>               After he and Liz started repairing bridges, the dreams stopped entirely, and he went back to having dreamless sleep. Until he had had lunch with Pete and had mentioned, offhand, that he didn’t dream. The memory of the look of absolute indignation on Pete’s face never failed to bring a smile to Kingston looking back on it. From that day forward, Kingston started remembering his dreams. They were always good dreams, but nothing like the idealistic life that had always made him feel so empty when he woke up without it. Kingston knew he was going to die in New York City, probably without ever leaving the city again. But, he knew what it was like to see the Great Pyramids, and the top of Mount Everest, and the surface of the moon. He didn’t mourn that he would never see what they looked like for real; there was no way that the reality could live up to the dreaming wonder. There was always a twist of whimsy and fantasy that could only be Pete’s influence.</p><p>               It wasn’t every night that Kingston dreamed. After all, Pete was a busy young man finding his way in the world, and Kingston couldn’t be more proud of all of the progress he had made since he first entered the Unsleeping City. Many nights Kingston still had his dreamless, restful sleep. But when he did remember his dreams, they were things of beauty, handcrafted, and gifted to him by the man who he had started to think of as the son that he had never had. In this one case, the real was better than the blurry dream-child.</p><p>               Dreamless sleep, or whimsical dreams. Kingston knew them both well. Which was why, when he jerked awake from a nightmare, he knew that something was <em>deeply</em> wrong.</p><p>               “Kingston? What’s the matter?” Liz said, rolling over in their bed as he sprang out, fumbling in the dark for his phone. When he didn’t immediately respond, she turned on the lamp on their bedside table as he frantically clicked on Pete’s contact information. “Kingston?”</p><p>               The phone started to ring. And kept ringing. Kingston held it up to his ear, mentally screaming at Pete to pick up the damn phone and trying not to let himself think about what it would mean if he didn’t.</p><p>               “Hey, you’ve reached Pete. . . Conlan. Wow, that’s still weird to say—” Kingston hung up on Pete’s voice mail message. He took a breath. Pete knew to leave his ringer on at night. One of the necessities of being an after-hours supernatural fighting team. He wouldn’t have let Kingston go to voice mail unless. . . Unless.</p><p>               “Kingston, honey, you’d better answer me,” Liz said, an edge of fear covered by the irritation in her voice. Kingston took a breath. Right, he could fix this. It wouldn’t be the first time that he had to help Pete solve a problem, either mundane or supernatural. He’d make some calls. Kingston could help. It’s what he did—he looked after people. He looked after Pete.</p><p>               “Pete. Something’s wrong. He’s not answering his phone,” Kingston said. Liz paled before pulling out her own phone.</p><p>               “Who should I send?” Liz said, getting right down to business. God, he loved her.</p><p>               “Anyone in the area. Anyone who can get there,” Kingston said. He didn’t say that anything that could give Pete trouble wouldn’t be something that most anyone else, even those inducted into the Unsleeping City, would be able to deal with. They’d just have to hope that any extra help they could send would make some sort of a difference.</p><p>               Kingston needed someone who could get to Pete <em>now</em>. Cody. Obviously. If he had been thinking clearly he would have called him first. He clicked the new contact on his phone and waited while it rung.</p><p>               “’Sup. Night Angel here to take your message. Unless you’re fucking Gladia—” Kingston hung up. Okay. Either whatever got to Pete had also gotten to Cody, or Cody hadn’t paid attention when they’d given him the leaving your ringer on talk. Either way, he wouldn’t be any help to Pete, so it didn’t matter.</p><p>               Kingston clicked another contact and had to fight the urge to cry with relief when someone <em>finally</em> picked up.</p><p>               “Kingston? What’s the emergency?” Ester said, her professional tone interrupted by a stifled yawn.</p><p>               “It’s Pete. Something’s wrong, and someone needs to get to him to help,” Kingston said, trying to force his heartrate to slow. Ester could get to Pete. As much as Kingston wanted to be there himself, he had faith in her and Ricky. They’d stop whatever was happening. Pete would be fine.</p><p>               “Shit,” Ester said, her voice cracking. Kingston clenched the fist not holding his cell phone. That was <em>not</em> the response he wanted to hear. “Kingston, I—I don’t have spell slots left to teleport tonight.”</p><p>               Kingston’s heart dropped like a rock. “Ana and Amilia?” he asked, though he knew the answer.</p><p>               “They haven’t gotten to that level of magic yet. I—I don’t know of anyone else in the city who can teleport. I’m so sorry,” Ester said. Kingston heard the worry and anxiety in her voice. Some distant part of him thought that he should comfort her. That’s what Kingston did; he looked out for people. The words didn’t come. “Ricky’s heading out with Ox. He’ll get there.”</p><p>               “Sure,” Kingston heard himself say. He tried to run through the list of people he knew. He knew so many people. Why were all of them <em>useless</em> right now? Why was <em>he</em> so incredibly <em>useless </em>right now? He hung up on Ester without another word. He would have to apologize for that tomorrow. Ester probably felt terrible, and Kingston wasn’t making it better. He couldn’t find it in himself to care.</p><p>               Kingston scrolled through his huge list of contacts. None of them could get there fast enough. He wasn’t sure how he knew, if it was some Vox magic or something else, but it was with a bone-deep certainty that he knew that Pete didn’t have time. He just had to believe that he had <em>some</em> time. None of his people could get there fast enough.</p><p>               Kingston found himself pressing Pete’s contact again, listening to the phone ring uselessly. He half stood up, then fell to his knees besides the bed. Liz looked up, concerned, then went back to calling everyone she could think of. She didn’t know that they didn’t have time.</p><p>               “Hey, you’ve reached Pete—” Kingston hung up. He stared at Pete’s contact photo. It was the two of them, arms around each other’s shoulders. Pete was wearing his silly cowboy hat and a shit-eating grin. Kingston had his head thrown back in laughter. He couldn’t remember what Pete had said to make him laugh that time. There were so many other times like it, it just didn’t stand out. Kingston pressed call again. He clutched the phone tightly as it rang.</p><p>               “Hey, you’ve reached—” Hang up. Call again. With one shaking hand, Kingston pulled his subway token talisman from beneath his shirt, gripping it tightly enough to press the indentation into his palm. He wasn’t religious, but the token was the closest thing he had; it was what he swore his oath on, anyways. He held the token in one hand and the phone in the other.</p><p>               “God, or Gods, or. . .” Kingston stuttered. He was usually so good with words. “Just, anyone and everyone who might be listening. Please.”</p><p>               “Hey, you’ve reach—” Hang up. Call again.</p><p>               “Please. I speak for the people of this city. Some of them are your people. Please, just this once. Let them speak for me, too. Listen to my prayer like you would theirs.” Kingston took a shaky breath. His old knees ached, they weren’t meant to stay kneeling like this, not at his age. He felt a tear make its way down his cheek. “Please let him be alright.”</p><p>               “Hey, you’ve—” Hang up. Call again.</p><p>               “Kug. Bruce. Please,” Kingston tried again. “You’re everywhere, right? You have to be where he is. Please, if there’s anything you can do. . .”</p><p>               For a moment, Kingston thought he felt a hand rest on his shoulder and squeeze reassuringly. Might have just been wishful thinking.</p><p>               “Hey, you’ve—” Hang up. Call again.</p><p>               “Kingston?” For a moment, Kingston thought he must be imagining it. “Kingston, I think I messed up.”</p><p>               “You’re okay,” Kingston said, not sure if he was talking to himself or to his boy. “You’re okay. Where are you?”</p><p>               “I’m at home,” Pete said. His voice sounded shaky, but there. Alive.</p><p>               “Ricky is already en route. Liz has some other people headed over that way, too,” Kingston said, making his way shakily to his feet. Hell, he’d run there himself if he had to, old man body be damned. “Are you hurt?”</p><p>               “No, no, I’m fine. I think I’m fine,” Pete said. His voice sounded a little stronger. “I think it’s gone. I managed to banish it. It’s gone.”</p><p>               “That him?” Liz said, eyeing Kingston’s change of posture. He nodded and saw her sag with the same relief he felt. She took a breath, then was back to get things done mode. “I’ll update everyone, you stay on that phone.” He loved her so much.</p><p>               “Kingston, you still there?” Pete said after Kingston didn’t immediately respond. His voice wavered slightly. He might be unharmed, but he was obviously shaken.</p><p>               “Always. Can you walk me through what happened?” Kingston said, his voice feeling steady for the first time since he woke up. Finally, he knew what to do.</p><p>               “I went to Nodd last night, to check in and see if I could figure out why some of the stuff has been happening, but something else was there. But not really there. But it was big, and it was powerful, and it was destroying people’s dreams, and I had to stop it. I had to.”</p><p>               “I know. Take a breath. Then tell me the rest.”</p><p>               “So I ran at it,” Pete said. Kingston had to bite back a panicked retort. This wasn’t the time for that. “And I guess I must have caught it off guard? Or something. It hesitated for just a second, and I was able to banish it.”</p><p>               “Sounds like you did good work,” Kingston said, the words coming automatically. It was easier to fall into the rutine of recognizing Pete’s efforts than think about how everything almost went wrong</p><p>               “Kingston, it shouldn’t have worked. When I was banishing it, I felt how powerful it was. It would have torn me apart, and I wouldn’t have been able to do a thing. Then, I’d be just like all of the other Vox Phantasmas who tried to look into the deeper dreaming. I’d have just been gone, and even my final memories would just be gone, and no one would ever even know what had happened to me,” Pete said, starting to ramble.</p><p>               “I would’ve known,” Kingston interrupts that train of thought, almost surprised by the force in his tone.</p><p>               “What?”</p><p>               “I wouldn’t have stopped until I knew what had happened.” Kingston knew this with the clarity that he knew that New York was his city, that Liz was near perfection, that Pete was meant to be his son. He would have gone to the ends of the earth. No matter how long it took, he would have found out. He would have brought Pete home, or died trying.</p><p>               “Oh. Well, I’m glad you didn’t have to,” Pete said. He didn’t quite sound like he believed him. He got like that sometimes when people tried to show how much they cared about him. That was alright. Kingston had time to convince him. For now, they had time.</p>
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